


beautiful pain

by qeacock



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qeacock/pseuds/qeacock
Summary: deep silence and foreboding darkness. shrouded in the mystery of what happened and encased in a facade of laughter and happiness. circus baby's was not a fun, entertaining establishment, and it never was, but maybe afton will uncover the truths of this establishment . maybe he will finally discover what really happened here and why they were hiding behind a facade in the first place.





	beautiful pain

deep silence and foreboding darkness. shrouded in the mystery of what happened and encased in a facade of laughter and happiness. circus baby's was not a fun, entertaining establishment, and it never was, but maybe afton will uncover the truths of this establishment . maybe he will finally discover what really happened here and why they were hiding behind a facade in the first place.

after the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky became a molten black colour, tinted with oranges and reds, michael stepped up towards the elevator for his first shift. he's been to multiple of the company's establishments before - many were closed and shut down to the public for... unsanitary reasons, before he had the chance to really pursue a career off of working there. he's not stupid. he knows what the night shift holds. he knows that they arent simply animatronics, he knows that. but he didnt know, even after the elevator doors closed behind him and he was taken far, far below the surface, he didnt know just how alone he would be. In this underground of angry, angry ghosts imprisoned for years on end.

the air smelt different. the darkness bellowed beneath her fingertips, shifting and changing as the blackness seeped into every crack and crevice. yes, it was different, she could tell. she raised her head in anticipation for what was to come, letting her body lay limp and idle in the shadow as she sat wedged firmly into the corner of the room, blended away and out of sight. she could smell the freshness of the outside barely there, concealed amidst the dust and thinned by the humid atmosphere of the underground. baby let her smile grow even wider; change was coming, and she had been waiting for change for decades. "change was coming," she whispered, even as her fingers crinkled and her worn surface concealed by fresh paints was barely holding itself together,

change was _coming._

the elevator stopped. the lights began to dim, and a soft melodic tune played as the doors slowly opened themselves.then everything went silent, and the darkness somehow grew darker. he could make out bright yellow tape stretched out across some kind of ventilation system - "WARNING, DANGER, KEEP OUT" - sprawled in a pattern across each of them. he wanted to turn back. he could not. slowly he dropped to his knees, arched his body forward and started crawling. the vents were small and cramped - the air was clogged and smelt of rust, and a horrible, horrible drenching smell which he somehow couldnt quite name. the metal scuffed and dragged at his joints, making them red and sore as HandUnit talked to him and, "filled the somewhat frightening silence". he talked about a story of a man, working here before him. how his dead, lifeless corpse was found in this very vent. michael crawled faster.  
ears pointed, back arched, the smell of something new was easily carried into the room. the air was heavy with it, the thick scent of an outsider here. naturally, she darted towards the window and squatted so that she could properly see through it. golden eyes flicking over the expanse of the un-illuminated room, she felt a pang of disappointment ring in her insides like she was hollow and emotion was her only filling. (which, in a sense, it was.) she caught a faint glimmer of a blurred motion, and she had to fight herself to keep her body motionless. suddenly the light flicked on and she stumbled backwards, almost crying out into the darkness - her eyes were filled with white and foxy knelt on her stage floor, wiping at her eyes like she could claw the vision impairment out. she blinked, and blinked and blinked and eventually her pupils thinned enough so that the over exposure to the light didnt affect her as much. the smell was stronger now, she felt the presence of someone very very close - closer than someone had been in years. body poised, ears pricked, mouth gaping open in a smile as fake as the "happiness" that this place once promised, funtime foxy stood to play her role on the stage.

 

he saw a light, quite literally at the end of the tunnel, and prepared to pull himself up and out of the cramped vent. his handunit started talking about all of the little details in this room - what the different crawlspaces were, the looking glasses and the red and blue buttons on each panel. michael looked closely at the room, his eyes following the vibrant green light surrounding a mask on the ceiling. it had a green and yellow striped childrens party hat, along with a bright red nose. wide eyes were cut out of the face, and it had an eerie smile. it looked just like a clown, an entertainer meant to bring joy and happiness to young children. Instead, they are viewed with fear and a sense of dread - children are scared of them. they are _afraid_ of clowns.

even with her eyes closed she could feel the presence of him, stark and bold and fierce in the centre of the room. he was there, very obviously emanating. it was dangerous for him to be so close, dangerous. she felt threatened by his presence, feet in pointe shoes coming to a halt and flexing upwards as she held her balance on the balls of her feet. it was clear that he was oblivious to the things that the darkness really held, and why they were kept in darkness in the first place. she let the fresh promise of freedom bring the tears that threatened to spill from her closed eyelids and ballora let her voice lament in the silence. "Why do you hide inside your walls," her voice echoed into the darkness, her voice sounding sad and desolate in the lonely room as it stretched from her lips, "when there's music in my halls?" she let her feet pick up speed and she glided effortlessly into an arabesque, her leg outstretched, body poised in grace that a human ballerina would take years to perfect. ballora let the air carry her into a grand jete and as she landed on two pointed feet, with stunning grace, she finished with a pirouette as the last fading echoes of her song rang out into the darkness. she sat down, tired of everything, tired of doing this, tired of it all. she wanted it to end.  
the tears that came next were agonising, hot and angry and she wept into the blackness, desperate for it to be over, the pain and torment of years was too much to handle. she was tired of being alone

"ballora is dancing today. check the lights, to see her ballet." handunit instructed, with a loud, almost automated voice. his hand reached out for the blue button - the light making his skin look infected and purple. great white shafts of light shone in the room before him, illuminating the once dark room and ridding of the shadows. he could hear a faint music box from behind the glass, uttering a beautiful melody, filled with grief and sadness he could not understand.  
**ballora was not dancing.**

****

face pressed against the glass, face wet from the newly shed tears, she stood, posture betraying human emotion in her otherwise robotic state. she stood there on pointed toes, anger blossoming like sakuras. ballora did not take kindly to those that interrupted her performance, not kindly at all. as her smile grew wider and her several rows of teeth glinted in the light, she was making it clearer and clearer to the offender that they were not welcome here. body tense, music fading into a sinister silence that tore at your ears like static, her faceplates twitched and disorted and glitched until - she opened her eyes.  
michael could only watch, as the ballerina danced frighteningly closer and closer to the glass, her graceful body twisting and distorting. it looked strange, and unnatural - to see such a beautiful thing react so horribly, so violently. fear and anticipation only grew. handunit chimed in - "uh oh. it looks like ballora, isnt feeling like her old self currently, and hasnt put on a show for us. as she isnt dancing today, let's fix that with a controlled shock. you can do this by pressing the red button on the keypad." michael was confused - 'controlled shock'? he hesitantly reached out for the red button, seeing the ballerina only grow closer, and closer, and closer until it didnt. he pushed the button. it started shaking and its faceplates closed as well as her eyes, maintaining a beautiful and graceful dance as it transformed once again into the ballerina, he assumed, who performed and brought joy to young children before. for michael, well.. he was shaking.

pain, panic, and blinding white fear drowned out any other possible emotion that she could ever have felt in that moment. her body was overtook by violent spasms and it felt like she was collapsing, like her insides had been torn apart and twisted until it formed an amalgamation of wires and dead circuits. her eyes felt like they were disconnected, rolling around in their sockets like marbles . her body was on fire - ballora felt like she had been split apart over and over again , or like her fingernails had been twisted and pulled out one by one. it was like her whole entire endoskeleton and outer shell combined had been singed , even as hot tears spilled from her eyelids and her throat felt like it had been drenched in toxic chemicals she had to stand up on her shaky and wobbly legs and her toes almost gave out beneath her weight. she was forced to get back up even if her spine was almost broken or she couldnt feel her arms and smile. her voice sounded raw and she had almost definitely scared her only chance of freedom away but she was trying. her voice was broken and her paint was probably cracked and crumbled from her tears but still she forced herself to look happy as the light blared, as he looked down on her.  
she forced herself to pretend.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress.


End file.
